Stay With Me
by Just-Soldier-On
Summary: Imagine Sam and Dean finding out about your self harm cuts and scars. Rated M for mature themes. R


**R&R! if you like it!**

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You have been sitting here for what seemed like hours, a grimace on your face... you're trying your hardest not to start crying.

You have screwed up, majorly. You can tell Dean is pissed beyond words at you. Sam is hurt, and it's your entire fault. The two of you had gone off on a hunt that the both of you were not even supposed to go on and you thought you could take that big blood sucking vampire by yourself. He was gaining in on you and Sam had to swoop in and save you, only to get a serious cut on the side of his stomach from the vampire's sharp claw like fingernails.

You had not seen so much blood in your life- and that was saying something coming from you, who for the past 6 years had seen nothing but blood.

You managed to get him out of there safely with the weight of the world on your shoulders.

"I'm so sorry" You whispered to Dean softly, hoping to god he didn't hate you as much as you were hating yourself.

"Dean?" Castiel asked inquisitively as he appeared inside the room. "You require my assistance?"

"Cas, Sam's hurt. You need to fix him. Please" Dean sounded so hopeless... and helpless. The thought of his brother dying was just too much for him to bare, so much that he just couldn't talk to you right now... or even look at you.

"Of course, Dean"

You watched as Castiel leant over the bed, and over an unconscious, almost lifeless Sam to inspect the wound, he touched it and within seconds it was fixed. The deep gash was gone and Sam was lurching forward from his spot on the bed, and you released an air of breathe that you didn't even realise that you had kept in.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled, embracing his younger brother to his chest and holding him there. Sam didn't even try to shove him off, he knew better that. He just let him. You knew Dean better than almost anyone, and you knew he was trying to keep his tears in. "I thought I lost you there for a second, you bitch."

"Jerk" He mumbled, and for the first time that night Dean laughed. It was a real laugh, one that reached his eyes.

"Well if you no longer require my assistance then I must be going. I have something of import to attend."

And with a nod from Dean, Castiel was gone.

"Sam, I'm so sorry"

They both look at you.

"It's okay, (Y/N)"

"No it's not. What the hell were you thinking? The both of you!"

"I wasn't" You mutter looking down at the ground.

"Jesus Christ! I had told the both of you not to go on that fucking hunt! You knew it was dangerous." You could feel the disappointment and anger rolling off of Dean in waves that emitted from him.

"I'm sorry" And you truly where.

"Dean, let up. It was my fault too."

Dean nodded in agreement.

"Yeah it was. But it was her idea, you wouldn't ever let her go off alone, and the both of you sneaked off whilst I was at Billy's trying to find away to gank that son of a bitch."

You couldn't handle the looks Dean was giving you, so you got up from your seat on the bed and said "I- I need to shower"

But of course, that's not really what you really needed to do.

When you were in the safety of the bathroom you pulled out the blade that was in your pocket. You close your eyes and you take a deep breath and you know for a fact that there is no one else to blame; just you and your stupidity.

You can't recall how many times you have been in this position before.

Standing in the bathroom you roll up your long sleeved shirt, there is a blade in your hand that you're roughly pressing against the skin of your scarred up arm; you draw the knife sideways.

You watch as the blood seeps from the open gash on your wrist and you finally allow yourself to cry.

And then, you keep drawing the blade back and forth on your arm until you've mentally counted "twenty". Twenty new cuts that would always be on your arm; twenty new cuts you now had the pleasure of hiding.

And then you were tired.

Emotionally, physically- you didn't even know any more.

You allowed yourself to slide down the cold, hard tiled floors. You wrapped your bleeding arms around your body and hugged yourself tightly.

You hated yourself for what you did to Sam.

You hated yourself because you're nothing but an ugly, disgusting waste of human existence.

You hated yourself because you had too much responsibility that you didn't even want.

You hated yourself because not even your parents wanted someone like you.

So you cried, and you bled.

You heard someone knock and then an "I'm sorry" reverberated throughout the bathroom. But you ignored it, because you couldn't stop the sobs that wracked through your body.

"Can you open the door, (Y/N)?"

You didn't.

"Please"

You wrapped your arms around yourself even tighter and you focused on your breathing, because you knew if you kept sobbing the way you were you'd go into full panic attack mode. You managed to drown him out.

And then you heard an "I'm coming in" and before you could stop him... the door was kicked in and there he was.

"(Y/N)!" He yells your name, he was panicking and he called out Sam's name.

"Dean" you rasped through your tear strained voice. "Go away" you tried to weakly push him away from you.

"Stop!" He grabs your wrist gently and closely inspects them with a look of horror on his face. "What have you done to yourself, baby?"

By now Sam was in the bathroom and Dean is muttering unintelligible things to him that you don't even want to try and understand. You want to sleep... or pass out, but you don't. You're wide awake and you think its God punishing you for wasting his time by being on this Earth.

You realise that Dean is touching your bleeding arms, but you don't want him too so you keep trying to push him away.

"Stop it! Let me help you!"

"No!" You scream at him.

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I don't deserve it, just fuck off!"

He doesn't listen to you, instead he goes to take your long sleeved shirt off.

"Don't" You don't want him to see the 4 years worth of cuts and scars on your arms. Especially not Dean.

Sam, you realise, is looking down at you in horror and sorrow as he passes Dean bandages and alcohol wipes.

He does anyway, he rips off your shirt with his bare hands and you're exposed to him. You're in your bra and you're expecting him to scrunch up his face, or laugh. But he doesn't. He gets to work cleaning your cuts, even the older ones that are laced throughout the length of both arms.

Minutes pass. You're not sure how many, but Sam and Dean have finished cleaning you and bandaging you.

They look at you.

Millions of questions are running throughout their eyes, you can see it.

But they don't ask. Not yet anyway.

Dean, however, picks you up and walks out of the bathroom with you in his arms and he walks you to his bed.

"Why would you do that to yourself?" Dean asks you calmly, holding you in his arm.

"Because" is your only explanation.

You don't want to tell him half the shit you have been through.

"Please, let us help you, (Y/N)" Sam whispers, he strokes your hair.

"No"

"Why the fuck not?" Dean is livid.

"Because I don't deserve it!" You scream. "Just leave me the fuck alone." You turn on your side because you just didn't want to face them right now. You didn't want to see their disappointment for you on their faces.

But Dean has other ideas for you; he picks you up and holds you in his arms, making sure that you're looking him in the eye.

"You listen to me. I god damn love you, and I do not give a fuck if you don't want my help, you're going to get it. Do you understand me? I love you. So please, let me help you"

And then there was silence. You couldn't take that silence; it was louder than anything you have ever heard.

"I've been doing it for 6 years. " You admitted.

"Why did you do it?" Sam asked you.

"I went to this party when I was 17 and there were these guys, when I turned away they slipped something into my drink. They had drugged me, and they raped me. There were three of them. I was awake for it, but I couldn't move anything. And then they left me out the front of the house and people just assumed I had too much to drink and let some guy fuck me. I was a fucking virgin and they laughed and said I was more fun that way, and they were fighting over who would fuck me first. How sick is that!" You growled.

Dean's breath got caught in his throat and he hugged you tighter to his chest- there were tears in his eyes. Sam was stroking your hair gently, a look of sadness on his face.

"And then I did anything to not feel it. I drank all the time and I took drugs- I smoked like a chimney. And for a long time it worked and I couldn't feel a thing. But, then I wanted too. So I did anything I could to feel, and I cut myself. I could feel. It hurt like hell. I kept doing it. It became a habit. When something would happen I would hurt myself and it released a lot of my pent up emotions. And then I met you guys. And I didn't do it as much as I used to. You guys really helped me without noticing it. "

"I'm so sorry" Dean whispered in your ear.

"It's not your fault" You whisper back.

Sam knew that you two needed some time alone, so, he bent down and kissed your forehead and you close your eyes, enjoying the warmth of his mouth on your cold skin.

"I love you" He whispers.

And you love him back, he is like the brother you never got to have.

But you don't say it back, because you can't. And he understands that.

When he leaves Dean get's up, and you protest loudly.

For some reason, you're scared.

"Shhh" He hushes. "I'm just going to get you a shirt" He hands you his favourite ACDC band shirt, he puts it on you and it flows to your mid thigh.

"Please don't leave me tonight. I don't want you to leave- I just want you to hold me."

And he does, and when you fall asleep in his arms he makes a silent vow to fall asleep with you every night.


End file.
